


A Million Reasons Why

by Krisil



Category: Bleach
Genre: 0.2 seconds of ishihime, But also not, Canon, F/M, Ichiruki, chronological if you squint, not ending compliant, post-manga, this is kind of an ending rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24080998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krisil/pseuds/Krisil
Summary: There were a million reasons why Rukia thought that her and Ichigo would never work. This is a story about how Ichigo unknowingly (and knowingly) keeps proving those reasons wrong.
Relationships: Kuchiki Rukia/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 13
Kudos: 86





	1. Different worlds

There were a million reasons why Rukia kuchiki and Ichigo Kurosaki would never work, the first of which being the fact that they quite literally lived in different worlds.   
The amount of paperwork that the Seireitei required her to fill out merely to attend his high school graduation was so ridiculous that had she known, she never would have asked for a day off in the first place. There would have been less if she had just abandoned her post. 

They made it hard for shinigami’s to go to the living world for personal reasons for people like her. It was a reminder that she did not belong in that world.   
Ichigo was an exception to most rules, but not every rule. 

She arrived at the Kurosaki household twenty minutes late, long past the time that the rest of their friends had. At the sight of her, Isshin had burst into a bubbling mess of sobs, crying how he thought his third daughter had abandoned them.

Ichigo laughed at her poor fortune as his father globbed onto her like a fan girl at a rock concert, but Isshin was right. She had not returned to the living world since the Quincy's had invaded the Seireitei a year before. The only time she saw Ichigo himself was when he joined missions on days he didn’t have classes or supplementary lessons. 

In lieu of hello she punched Ichigo lightly on the arm when she managed to separate herself from his parasite of a father, and made quick greetings to all of his human friends. “I can't believe they let you graduate, with all your absences.”

He huffed, crossing his arms. “They almost didn't.” 

The rest of his friends had graduated months prior to him, along with the rest of his class. She wondered if it would have made a difference if they knew that he had saved the world. Multiple times. It was hard not to feel guilty, looking at the makeshift graduation party that they had thrown together for him. Knowing that it was her fault, at least in part, that he missed out on being a normal human teenage boy. 

She didn’t tell him this, knowing full well he would call her an idiot, and tell her he wouldn’t have it any other way, instead she gave him a soft smile and told him, “congratulations, Ichigo.”

The grin he gave her in return was more than she could ask for. “Thank you.”

Across the room Orihime called his name, holding an evidently homemade cake in the air. Rukia chuckled darkly at Ichigo’s poor luck. Whoever had thought to leave Orihime in charge of anything that was intended to be edible evidently had no taste buds. 

“Well,” he said with an air of mirth, “Duty calls.” Saluting her like a soldier heading off to war, before heading off to answer Orihime's call.

He was not far off.

From across the room, she watched as Ichigo let Orihime cut him a piece of cake. Laughing softly as she told him he had to have a piece with wasabi frosting, because it was the best part. Watched, as he tried his best to smile as he took a brave bite of cake, waiting until she turned her back to spit it into his napkin. 

This was the life that he deserved. Happy, and carefree, surrounded by people who were human just like him. It was the life he should have gotten. There had been a time when he had wanted to be a doctor like his father. Now, having graduated high school, with no looming threats in the distance, his human life would go on. 

“Has he told you yet?”

Rukia turned to Karin who stood at the bottom of the staircase behind her. “Told me what?”

She didn’t want to jump to conclusions. It was just that every time someone started a sentence the way Karin had, the answer was never good. 

“I don’t know if it’s my place to tell you, but—“ Karin broke off, eyes trained on her brother, “you should really talk to him.”

Rukia nodded, using all the strength she had not to demand an answer from Karin. “I will.”

The truth was, if Karin thought it wasn’t her place, it most likely wasn’t. 

Karin nodded, and left Rukia alone to rejoin the party. 

She stayed behind once the rest of Ichigo’s friends had left, cleaning up the untouched cake left on the dining room table that read congratulations, Ichigo in nauseatingly bright green. When Ichigo returned to the kitchen, after walking the last of his guests out, she was stacking dishes to be washed. 

“You know you don’t have to do that, right?”

She nodded, starting the tap to fill the sink. 

Ichigo reached around her, turning it off again. “I’m serious, my sister will do that in the morning.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” She reassured him, turning it back on. 

“I do,” he said, turning it off again. 

She sighed, debating whether or not it was worth it to fight with him over who did the dishes, when she knew that wasn’t what she wanted to fight with him about. He knew it too, she could almost guarantee. At times she wondered if giving him her powers all those years ago made him able to read her thoughts. 

“Why do I get the feeling you’re mad about something?” He asked, proving her point. 

The thing was she didn’t want to be mad about it. He was allowed to have secrets. He didn’t owe her anything. What made her mad the most, was the fact that it made her mad at all. When he had turned her into this, whatever this was, she couldn’t even remember. All she knew was that sometimes, possibly most of the time, Ichigo Kurosaki made her feel crazy.

“Earlier today Karin said there was something you and I should talk about”

He didn’t ask what Karin meant. Merely looked up, towards the ceiling as if he was hoping to find some magical answer that would explain everything written there. “Of course she did.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” She told him, even though she wouldn’t be able to sleep that night if he didn’t. 

“I was going to tell you tonight, anyways, so it doesn't really matter.”

That made her feel only slightly foolish. “I see,”

He raised a single brow at her in judgement, as if to say she wasn’t fooling anyone. Then, after a moment, he said: “I’m dying. Kind of.” the way one would say that they’re kind of lactose intolerant.

Rukia had always thought herself to be a realistic person. It was realistic to jump to the worst conclusions, sometimes. Everyone did it. Most of the time the worst didn’t happen. Except, sometimes it did. 

“What do you mean ‘kind of’?” She had attempted, but very obviously failed, to keep the incredulous note edging its way into her voice unnoticeable. “How does one kind of die, Ichigo?”

“Well I’m not really dying, my body is. According to Uruhara these are the unforeseen consequences of leaving my body for extended periods of time. Or the consequences of using a mod soul for extended periods of time. He’s not really sure.”

Rukia paused, reaching the conclusion he clearly had. “Which will make you a shinigami.”

“Hence, kind of.”

Which would mean he would have to live in the seireitei. 

She wanted to tell herself that this didn’t change anything. 

Except it did.


	2. Orihime Inoue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were a million reasons why Ichigo Kurosaki, and Rukia Kuchiki would never work. The second went by the name of Orihime Inoue.

There were a million reasons why Rukia kuchiki and Ichigo Kurosaki would never work. The second reason went by the name of Orihime Inoue.

For as long as Rukia had known Ichigo Kurosaki, he had been loved by Orihime. Longer, if one counted the years before Rukia had ever come into the picture. There were few people alive that hadn’t figured this out. Ichigo Kurosaki was the founding member of this club.

Rukia did not hate Orihime for loving him. She knew as well as anyone that one didn’t choose how they felt. Hating someone, just for loving someone, would be a cruel thing, and If the world had any ounce of fairness left in it, Rukia truly believed that it would be Orihime he ended up with, in the end. She represented everything that Rukia had ever wanted for him. The human life he was robbed of. Any semblance of normalcy. 

Rukia considered Orihime to be her friend, which was why she had been at the girls house for tea in the first place. 

It was rare that anyone would gather the courage to ask. Most respected her privacy, knowing that if she wanted to, she would say so. Every once in a while, though, someone would get too curious for their own good. The question would slip out of their teeth in a whisper, or slip into their words between the lines. Never, did she answer because in her opinion, it wasn't any of their business. 

Except for Orihime. 

How he had come up in the first she couldn't remember, all that mattered was that he had. She felt the previously casual air between them grow uncomfortable, and the silence grow too long. 

Rukia knew the question was coming before it was even asked. 

“Do you love him?” Orihime asked, as she stared at the cold teacup trapped between her palms and into the amber liquid. 

There was a moment that Rukia considered lying, if it would only serve to spare the other girls feelings. But even the idea tasted too bitter for her to swallow. Her tongue was a stone, caged behind her teeth that ceased to serve any function beyond another weight for her to bear. The truth was something she had never managed to say aloud. 

Orihime’s gaze lifted from her tea, and to hers. Whatever she saw there must have been answer enough as her shoulders sagged, and she gave the barest of nods. 

If she had a mirror in that moment, would she see what Orihime had? Would she be able to look at the truth, if it were looking back at her wearing her own face? 

“It’s okay.” said Orihime, finally. “I knew, I just--I had to ask.”

It was the smile that Rukia saw slip onto her face, small but honest and despite the pain she must have been feeling, that hurt the most. 

“He deserves to be loved more than most.” Orihime whispered.

They had never spoken again about the conversation they had over tea that day. Rukia thought about it at time’s, wishing she had the courage to have been brave enough to admit what they both knew aloud. 

It wasn’t until years later, when Orihime and Ishida had announced that they were dating that Rukia gave it too much weight. In hindsight, she didn’t find it all too shocking. But at the time, she had only thought of Orihime to have affections for Ichigo. 

She hadn't been the only one who had thought so either, if their friends reactions had meant anything. Their heads swivel on their necks to catch a glimpse of Ichigo’s reaction to the news. In the end, he end he had been least surprised out of all of them. 

“Just say it.” He’d told her, on their way back to the seireitei that night, annoyed by her silence. 

“Say what?” She had asked, feigning innocence, because she didn’t have any particular desire to have the conversation Ichigo was about to start. Despite his belief. 

“Whatever it is you’re going to say about Ishida and Inoue. Get it over with.”

She paused. “It’s nothing really. It’s just…”

“Just?”

“I thought Orihime was in love with you”

To her surprise, Ichigo nodded. As if he knew what she was going to say all along. “She was.”

“Was?” As in, past tense? While rukia hadn’t visited the living world as much as she once had, especially w8th Ichigo in the seireitei full time, she hadn’t realized just how much things had changed. She should have seen it. There must have been evidence as some point she had missed of the changes happening right under her nose. “How did you find out?”

Ichigo looked at her as if she had made a poor joke. “Do you honestly think I didn’t know?”

Ichigo had known.

And he had never done anything about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a second version of this chapter rattling around in my head so its highly likely im going to replace it later. Whoops.


	3. Every Other Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thing was, Ichigo Kurosaki almost died every other wednesday, and it was bad for Rukia's cardiac health.

There were a million reasons why Rukia kuchiki and Ichigo Kurosaki would never work. The third being that Ichigo Kurosaki almost died every other Wednesday of the week. While Rukia wasn’t entirely sure whether shinigami could suffer stress induced heart failure, she was positive any scientific reasoning considered Ichigo as a variable. As she watched him take a blow meant for her, her heart stopped beating dead in her chest. Name it what you will. 

Renji later told her that he heard her scream across the battlefield, well above the symphony of blades, loud as shattering glass. She remembered nothing but watching him fall, head first, limbs limp, towards the ground. the slick feel of his blood coating her hands as she tried to put him back together again. 

The sedative the the medics administered her upon arrival had been for her own safety, according to Isane. She had crumpled, a house of cards in a windstorm, beside his unmoving body. Watching as they attempted to revive his unmoving body for sixty-eight seconds before she lost consciousness.

He was still in surgery when she woke to Renji cleaning the blood off her hands. 

“When I saw them carry you into the Senkaimon I thought this blood was yours. You were covered..” He’d told her without looking up. 

She read between the lines of his words: he had thought she was dead. “It should have been.” 

That was the only thing she said in the forty-eight hours it took them to decide the Ichigo Kurosaki would live. 

It took a week before looking at him didn’t hurt so much that she feared her heart would stop just looking at him. For all of those seven days she had avoided where she knew he would be. Ignored every message he had sent for her. It was a cowardly thing to do, she was fully aware. But he made her afraid and fearless at the same time, and sometimes the fear won more than anything else. 

On the eighth day after he nearly died he stormed into her office, bandages still wrapped tight around his chest, and demanded to know what her  _ goddamn problem was. _

“You.” She spat with a venom she didn’t know she possessed. Rage filling every inch of her. “ _ You  _ are my goddamn problem, Ichigo.” 

His hands flew into the air at her words, and he mouthed the word  _ what?  _ The way people do in response to things that were simply absolutely outrageous, so outrageous that actually verbalizing his indignation would also be outrageous. “And what could I have possibly done to you in the week that you spent avoiding me, rukia?” 

How one man could possibly be so, incredibly stupid was beyond her. There was no response she could give him. If he didn’t already know, then he would never figure it out. She stood from her desk, and made for the door. 

His hand caught her wrist like a bear trap clamping shut, hard and fast, yanking her back to face him so quickly that her chest slammed into his, the collision making him wince.

Her face must have given her away, because he stared down at her as if she were a puzzle with no picture that just fell into place. “Tell me this isn’t because I saved your life.” 

She yanked her arm free from his grasp. “Of course it is, Ichigo. You almost died.” 

“I almost die all the time.”

“You almost died for  _ me. _ ”

This was funny, apparently. Hilarious, if one were to judge it by his laugh. Yet when he spoke his voice held no hint of humour, “I would die for you a thousand times. Just like you would for me. Do you know how I know that you would? Because you nearly have, more times than I can count. I would be the world's biggest hypocrite if I asked you not to. That’s how this works, rukia. You would die for me, and I would die for you.” His voice rose with every word until he was standing there, yelling in face. 

In the end rukia was half certain he wouldn’t have stopped there if his lungs had any air left in them. He was left staring down at her, his amber eyes the colour of the ocean reflecting a burnt sienna sunset, panting softly. 

“What if I’d rather be a hypocrite, than watch you die?” She whispers without looking away. 

“I don’t care.”

He leaves her standing alone in her office feeling as though a flash flood had just torn her apart and vanished in the span of five whole minutes. 

It takes her nearly getting ripped in half during a scouting mission to hueco mundo when a hollow attacks his back while he’s not looking two weeks later for her to completely forgive him. She realizes, as she bleeds in his arms, that asking either of them to standby and watch the other die was a disrespect, a fool's errand, and simply never going to happen. 

Every time that Ichigo had ever put his life in danger, it had been to protect the people that he loved. 

Asking him not to would be the same as asking the world to spin backwards. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favourite chapter of this story and the first one that I wrote. :)


	4. Not the Same Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo loved her too. Just not the same way.

There were a million reasons why Rukia kuchiki and Ichigo Kurosaki would never work, but the most important reason was simple. It was a glaring, ugly reason that she occasionally nearly forgot, which made remembering all the more painful. 

Ichigo Kurosaki loves Rukia kuchiki.

Just not the way that she loved him. 

When exactly she had fallen in love with him, she wasn’t entirely certain. Even in her hundred-some-odd years of life, she had not been able to quantify love down to a level where she could diagnose it life the common cold. Love was a special kind of disease. One that looked different in everyone, and felt different each time. 

The first time that she had ever thought to herself:  _ I love this man _ , he hadn’t been a man at all. He had been but a boy at the time, and she had chalked it down to the fact he had saved her life. Later she would convince herself that she hadn’t felt anything at all. 

Now, she remembered it differently. As if it were yesterday, she could feel her heart rattling around her ribcage. His voice had been calm and confident, perhaps even smug, as if he weren’t holding the sokyoku back with what appeared to be sheer will alone. When she had opened her eyes the first thing she saw was flames, vibrant as a supernova framing his silhouette, then he came into focus. 

It was the grin on his face, the way he looked at her, that had stilled her heart and calmed her soul. 

It had been easy to dismiss the thought. It had felt like nothing she had ever felt before.

The second time that she found herself thinking, unbidden, that she loved Ichigo Kurosaki there had been no battle, no adrenaline to blame for her own emotions. 

Her heart had broken, silently in her chest as he said her name for what she had thought was the last time. 

_ Bye, Rukia.  _

There was a chance she might have told him then, outside his family home, had they not been surrounded by their friends. Let it slip under her breath in a whisper, as if it were a secret. It would have been cowardly. Cruel, even. To leave him with that as his last memory of her, before vanishing before his eyes like the night when the sun rises. 

It had been the way he looked at her. Eyelids heavy over his terracotta eyes, staring into her as if she were attempting to memorize every curve of her face. His soul reaching into hers the way only he could, committing how she felt standing next to him to memory. 

When she had thought it, for only herself to hear, it had been in farewell. 

But that hadn’t been the last time she had ever seen him. 

She had lost count after that. Finding herself thinking every time she looked at him. A broken record playing in her head;  _ I love you.  _

Ichigo loved her too, she knew. She also knew that he was not _in_ _love_ with her. So he had decided, somewhere along the line, that this would be her secret alone. She had learned to let herself love him with no expectations of anything in return. Because even when not returned, love was not always bad. 

She thought it now, as she watched his chest rise and fall as laid silently next to her. Gentle spring sun caressing the apex of his tan cheek. In the light his skin looked like liquid gold. She took him in the way a parched man would drink after days lost in the desert, hungrily taking advantage of his closed eyes. 

“You’re supposed to close your eyes.” He told her in a tone that implied he knew exactly what she had been doing. “The whole point of sunbathing is to  _ relax. _ ”

“My eyes are closed.” She lied, closing her eyes just for good measure.

“Oh yeah?” 

She felt him shift in the grass beside her.

“Then how come I could feel you staring at me?”

When she looked back to him, she found his eyes already on her. A casual smile playing on his lips. He was teasing her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He chuckled softly, and said nothing for a short moment. Then, “I have to tell you something.”

He was patient, as she attempted to gauge what he was going to say next. In the years she had known him she had learnt to read him by his expression alone. He looked at her in a way he had never before. Perhaps in a way she had just never noticed. This was not the way he looked when he was about to tell her that they might die, when he told her to get her shit together, or when he asked for her support. 

“Okay.” She told him, when she was ready. As ready as she could be for the unknown

Then, with the sun and the clouds as his witness, he whispered:

“I love you.”

  
  


There were a million reasons why Ichigo Kurosaki and Rukia Kuchiki would never work. She told him them all. 

“I’ve beaten worse odds.” He’d said, as if it were that simple. 

Turns out it was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter! I considered writing one more but I have moved on to knew fic. I really hope you guys like this, if the Ichiruki fandom still lives. I might be stuck in 2012, who knows?
> 
> This is my attempt to get better at short fics, bc my brand is typically monster long fics but they take sooo much time.
> 
> Leave some love in the comments :)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is kind of rough, but I really felt the need to feel like I finished something. Quarantine things, yenno. Might come back to this later and polish it up when I have the mental energy to edit. This turned out longer than I intended it to.


End file.
